


History Reversal

by SkySamuelle



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 14:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkySamuelle/pseuds/SkySamuelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Vampire Bonnie Bennett and Human Damon Salvatore cross paths in modern day Mystic Falls. One Shot</p>
            </blockquote>





	History Reversal

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for the Bamon Drabble Party at bubbly_fics. 
> 
> Prompt "I used to rule the world; seas would rise when I gave the word; now in the morning I sleep alone." (Coldplay)

For many reasons, returning to Mystic Falls after a century of absence was a surreal experience for Bonnie Bennett.

She didn't ask Anna whether it was the same for her, because there was no answer her friend could give that would ease her turmoil. They were back to open the Tomb, get the twenty-four vampires her spell had buried there out, and perhaps to organize a nice massacre along the way. After all, revenge was important and this cursed town deserved to be wiped out.

Since 1864, Bonnie and Anna had vagabonded across the world, never parting from each other for more than few months, waiting for the comet that would allow them to finally free Pearl.

It has been like running with the memory of the 1864 Purge constantly on their heels, and now they were so close…they should have been excited, relieved, sick with anticipation. For years, they had waited for nothing but this chance. Instead, Anna was restless and incessantly concerned that anything in their plan could go wrong, while Bonnie felt simply _haunted,_ like every corner hid a ghost from the past.

It was bad enough to deal with the two resident Bennett witches, Sheila and her grandniece Emily, when Emily looked so much like Bonnie's little sister, Eleanor. It was a reminder of the family she could have had if Katherine had not stolen her from her parents when she was just a child.

Katherine's memory came with a whole other load of issues that made Bonnie's stomach clench. All the vampire-witch knew about life, she had learn from her sire who had raised her as a mother, educated her as a severe mistress, caressed her like a lover and spoke to her like a best friend.

Katherine Pierce was _everything_ to Bonnie simply because she had made sure that her childe had nothing else. There has never been anyone as destructive as Katherine, who relished twisting every life she touched beyond recognition only because she had the talent to, but to Bonnie she had been the world. And when she had seen Joseph Salvatore running a stake through her heart, her heart had frozen too, because the pain had been so overwhelming.

Time had not dulled the memory of Katherine's whimper of pain as she died, nor the outrage Bonnie had felt toward humans.

For nearly fifty years of vampire life, it was Anna, Pearl, Katherine, and Bonnie, wandering across countries, basically owning every town they picked to reside. Like a family, or a four-people army. Feeling invincible, like nothing could ever touch them with Katherine pulling at theirs strings as a ruthless but infinitely charming puppeteer.

But after the Purge, it was like walking on thin ice everywhere she went, sleeping alone and waking with her head pulsating with nightmares.

Bonnie just wanted to find a way to truly rest. No nightmares, no cluttering memories, no visions from the past or the future. She wanted to feel nothing, to _be_ nothing.

It was impossible with Elena Gilbert parading herself all over Mystic Falls' social events, Stefan Salvatore on her arm. The resemblance to her ancestor was mesmerizing: Elena was Katherine without the cruel streak, or the ever-changing moods. She had Katherine's best traits without the violent fury or the narcissism poisoning them.

This is why Bonnie played friend to her, fed on her, and then compelled her to forget.

 _I might have Katherine back. All it will take is a little push at the right moment, and Elena would become her.-_ the thought never stopped hammering inside her head, tempting yet not.

The more Bonnie covered Elena's body with bite marks, the less certain she was about what she was _truly_ doing. Nostalgia and bitterness were so deeply entwined that it was nearly impossible to tell them apart.

Her entire being had revolved around what Katherine wanted for so long that it had been disorienting when Katherine was suddenly gone, and she had to learn to define herself anew.

Deep down, Bonnie doubted her sire had been capable to ever love anyone, even herself.

_Do I really want a replay of history?_

The question is there, but the answer keeps skipping out of reach.

It would not feel right, having Pearl and Harper back without filling the missing spot in their family, but at the same time, the idea of filling it made Bonnie sick.

The doubts didn't not stop her from feeding from Elena. The more the human girl grew confused and distracted, the more vindicated Bonnie felt.

She wanted to stop but she could not.

So when Stefan's older brother discovered her, Bonnie was almost grateful. Damon Salvatore was going to give her the perfect excuse to quit playing around and snap Elena's neck in a sickening twist.

Then she would be free of her ghosts once and for all.

Of course, all of the vampire's plans went out of the window when Damon smirked mischievously instead, threatening her with a stake, the caution in his eyes a surprising contrast to the easiness in his posture.

"Leave little Elena alone. Take me in her place."

That was the moment the _real_ madness began.

Damon Salvatore soon proved to be the most puzzling creature Bonnie had ever met in her 217 years of living.

It was strange enough that the oldest son of a Founders' Council member was so morbidly attracted to vampires-he was always so full of blunt questions about her kind first, her past second, and he was so easily captivated by her answers-or that he liked so much to be her personal evening snack. When she went hunting for animals he insisted on coming along and watching, endlessly amused by her strange preference of alternating animal blood with her 'natural diet'.

But that was only the tip of the iceberg where he was concerned. The boy was a living contradiction: a twenty-two year old college drop-out with a reputation of being the local man-slut, the bad apple of his family, a wit too often crass and no ability to be diplomatic in situations he disliked, yet also a boy who never failed to treat her with respect. He was self-destructive but had an appetite for everything about life too, and he seemed to feel everything so deeply. He had that air of entitlement and privilege wrapped around him like armor, but he never quite fit anywhere. He brought her to parties and defended her to his frowning bigot of a father, but he never asked to put labels on their growing relationship, almost like he feared she would slip out of reach as soon he tried to hold on to her too tightly.

Mostly, Damon looked as lonely and lost as she felt. Sometimes, Bonnie felt like she wanted to save him. The idea in itself was ridiculous, since she was twice as messed up as he was.

Smartass, temperamental, spoiled rich boys with daddy issues and numb-hearted vampire-witches with a dark past didn't mix.

But she wanted him around, if for no other reason than he amused her.

"So tomorrow is your big day… " Damon drifted off, dropping lingering kisses from her bare shoulder to behind her earlobe, his voice a soft purr that made her toes curl. His arms encircled her waist and pulled her backwards, against his chest, like he could truly hope to hold her to her bed against her will. Bonnie allowed him to stall her half-hearted departure because at times like this, she almost wondered if he had forgotten what she was.

This wasn't the case, she knew, but the thought was still nice to entertain for a few seconds. To think that someone could have seen her true face and still see her as the teenager she has never truly been. Or that Damon wanted to date her for any other reason than the secret thrill of smuggling in a vampire lover under daddy's nose.

"Yes," she answered simply, rolling on her back and stretching as Damon tried to distract her again with soothing, circular caresses on her belly. She didn't want to discuss tomorrow's rites with him, or to think about the tomb's opening at all. Anna was excited, but Bonnie just felt a foreboding chill whenever she mentally went over their plans.

Harper was the first and one friend she had ever had, although Pearl had turned him just a short while before the Purge. She had not had the time to know him very well, and Katherine had made sure their relationship never progressed very far, but she had liked that calm, gentle quality his presence had. She was about to save him. This, if nothing else, should improve her mood. It didn't.

"No inside scoop for me?"

"Why? Are you worried for your _beloved_ town?"

For a moment, Damon appeared to be too taken with nipping and suckling her skin from her throat to her chin to her cheeks to respond, but then he nuzzled his cheek against hers and did just that.

He was unfortunately too good at his attention-diverting techniques.

"Not at all. I've long accepted that us humble humans are just part of the food chain and shouldn't expect otherwise. "

It unnerved Bonnie that he said it with such excessively formal flair. Mostly because she knew he meant every word. Riding on a fleeting but violent mote of anger at his lack of self-preservation instinct, she used her superior strength to flip him over swiftly and pin his arms down to the mattress.

He raised his eyebrows suggestively and smirked slow at the slightly painful pressure on his forearms. As his glinting blue eyes went down, following her bouncing breasts, it was widely clear that he didn't care in the least that he couldn't escape her even if he had wanted.

 _Stupid boy_ \- she thought with something in between exasperation and concern and fondness. She let his arms free but growled softly, "You're a good sport," baring her fangs as she lowered herself on him.

His palms came up to cup her face; his thumbs running confidently over the ridges around her unnaturally black eyes, and Bonnie could have sworn she hated him. For all her power and all her blood thirst, she felt weak when he behaved so senselessly with her. Damon made her feel things, human things she never knew how to catalogue because she had no memory of being _'just a girl.'_

His body twitched under hers as she straddled him: she was the one to smirk now, her fangs nearly receding as she felt a surge of another kind of power pervade whole her being, the sort of rush that belongs to all women, supernatural or not.

"Since I'm so _good,_ " Damon taunted, his tone playing smoothly with the double-entendre, "I was thinking that, if you can manage to convince your family to not make a lunch out of me, I might come with you when you leave."

"When I leave?" she repeated dumbly, that ill-promising chill running along her spine again at that the unwanted reminder that Damon knew nothing of the bloodshed the freed vampires would doubtlessly demand.

"I can't imagine why you would want to stay a single second more than you need. _I'm_ sick of this place and I grew up here, so… "

Bonnie shook her head to clear it of those strange confusing emotions that threatened to take over _again_.

"Do you actually want to be around a bunch of resentful, hungry vampires?" his gaze darkened at her attempt to laugh his suggestion off, and her laughter froze in her throat as his hands fell away from her visage.

"I want to be anywhere you are," he insisted, his voice firm yet scornful like he was challenging her to contradict him, or to make fun of his feelings.

"Don't be like this. You aren't in love with me, Damon. You're just …addicted to your self-destruction. It's the death I bring with me that charms you, not my person."

She tried to sound certain, although, at times, she wasn't quite so sure of it anymore.

He rolled his eyes, snorting in annoyance. "You aren't the first vampire girl I let sink her teeth in me, sweetie. I can tell the difference. "

"You are a suicidal idiot." She sighs, moving away, angry despite herself at the idea of some undead tramp feeding on her boy. For as frustrating and confusing as he was, Damon Salvatore belonged to _her_ , body _and_ blood.

"And you are bloodsucking bitch: we fit," he grinned again, enjoying whatever he was reading into her reaction and grasping her hips to hold her back. His grasp was so pathetically easy that she pushed him back and down into the mattress just to prove a point. It didn't even faze him.

Bonnie sprinted off the bed, even more aggravated, for some reason she couldn't fully pinpoint.

"Stop looking inside me for something I can't give," she snaps, an anger she doesn't understand fighting to get out. "I can't love. I can't love _anyone_. It's not in me, and I don't know if it ever has been."

Damon's expression tightened, the twist to his lips plainly bitter as he sat up to glare at her.

"You loved _he_ r."

If it had not been so impossible to either accept or to understand, perhaps Bonnie could have found his occasionally resurfacing, intense jealousy toward Katherine fodder for a good laugh.

"I _hated_ her above anything and everything else I could have felt! I _never_ missed her."

Her furious snarl took Damon aback enough that he swallowed down any instinctive asshole-ish comment he wanted to deliver.

Yet, in the tense silence that settled between the two of them, his unsettlingly blue eyes never left her features. She wished her pride didn't forbid her from ordering him to stop: she felt exposed and uncertain with that insane degree of focus directed at her. She wondered why, despite her uneasiness, she didn't just switch her emotions off. Maybe Damon wasn't the only masochist in the room.

Suddenly, Damon released her of his prolonged exhalations of mock worry and lunged back against his pillow.

"I don't need you to admit it," he decided out loud for both of them, handing her this concession with an over-dramatic flair she found grating. "I know you feel something for me. Just come back to bed and grab a bite. It will calm you down."

Bonnie counted to three and seriously considered taking his offer. The arrogance that had him relaxing so shamelessly in front of her anger surely deserved some type of punishment. She wanted to mark every inch of his pale skin with her bites, and watch as her blood healed every bruise from inside his veins.

But she didn't trust her appetites around him right now. Her fury was still too close to the surface.

Even in that state, picking her black halter dress up from the floor and sliding it on, she wondered why she felt that protecting him was such a fundamental urge to follow.

"I'd rather go and kill something."

It was too bad that they both knew that she wasn't talking about people, but merely about some poor deer or rabbit: she wished he was scared of her, because she was starting to suspect she could grow easily scared of him.

Damon didn't call her back, being well-acquainted with her stubbornness.

She closed her hand around the handle and hesitated before pulling the door open. "You make me to feel human. It's nothing I'm proud of."

"If you say so, baby."

As Bonnie left the Salvatore's boarding house that evening, her mind was full of new, demanding thoughts. She didn't want to risk Damon's safety and, for the first time, she realized she didn't want to see him losing anyone he knew or cared about either. She didn't want him to regret being so stupidly kind to her.

She wanted to allow him to save her, if such a thing was truly possible. She wanted the chance to learn how he had acquired this mystifying power to resurrect a tiny bit of what Katherine had killed inside her.

She was actually considering only bringing out Pearl and Harper and setting all other occupants of the Tomb on fire.

_I came to Mystic Falls craving to destroy it, and now I find myself wanting to protect it. How does that happen?_

She had an answer for that question, but, oddly, she sensed the answer didn't matter as much as the path it was opening ahead of her.


End file.
